


What happens at Quiet Isle stays at Quiet Isle

by tall_wolf_of_tarth



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack, F/M, Fluff, no beta we die like First Men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:48:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29105862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tall_wolf_of_tarth/pseuds/tall_wolf_of_tarth
Summary: “Come to Quiet Isle, drink a lot, get married at the sept inside the casino. Very cliched.”
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 24
Kudos: 186
Collections: Jaime x Brienne January Madness





	What happens at Quiet Isle stays at Quiet Isle

**What happens at Quiet Isle stays at Quiet Isle**

She wakes up hungover and thirsty. For a moment she thinks Sansa’s cousin's huge dog has somehow gotten into her apartment and her bed but then she remembers that she’s not in Winterfell, but at Quiet Isle, so the hairs tickling her nose…

_Oh shit._

The hairs tickling her nose are very golden, and so is the body sprawled across Brienne. The last night comes back to Brienne in flashes.

The casinos, the booze, the dancing, Renly and Loras’s wedding in the sept decorated like a Mance Raydar’s bathroom, more booze and that tall, golden, annoying and golden man constantly needling Brienne and never leaving her side. The man currently sprawled across Brienne.

_Oh shit._

It can’t be any worse, can it, Brienne thinks -- without knowing that it’s bound to get much, much worse.

Brienne decides to take the coward’s way and escape before the golden god wakes up. She almost manages to wiggle herself away from him until she tries to pull her hand away.

It seems to be stuck.

In fact, it seems to be tied somewhere.

Full panic floods Brienne. Did the man tie her to the bed? She yanks her hand and the man twitches.

“Ow, wench,” he groans. “Stop yanking my hand.”

“Let go of my hand,” Brienne squeaks. “And did you just call me wench?”

Then Brienne notices the ribbon.

The white ribbon tying their hands together.

_OH SHIT._

***

“Well, you got to admit, it’s classic, isn’t it, wench?” Brienne looks quietly at her new husband sitting next to her at the edge of the bed. They are both wearing yesterday's clothes, or Brienne is wearing her slinky dress and the golden god -- Jaime -- is wearing suit trousers. His top half is naked. Well, there’s a shirt hanging from his one arm, stuck there because of their tied hands.

It annoys Brienne very much to notice that Jaime looks dashing, regardless of his rumpled and hungover state. No one should look so good having just woken up at Quiet Isle, married to Brienne, who most likely looks like yesterday's fish dinner warmed over.

Jaime sits up to rummage through the minibar in front of him, his hand tied to Brienne’s hanging awkwardly behind. “Come to Quiet Isle, drink a lot, get married at the sept inside the casino. Very cliched.”

Jaime would have a pleasant voice if he weren't so damn annoying, and Brienne wouldn't be so hungover. Unfortunately, both are true, and Brienne tries not to stare at his naked back and his well-formed arse.

When he sits back, Brienne starts to unpick the knot on the white ribbon again. Jaime looks at him with some amusement.

“They make the knots impossible to undo, wench. We need scissors.”

“Do you have scissors?” Brienne snaps. “And my name is Brienne.”

“No,” Jaime shakes his head and winces. His hangover must be as bad as Brienne’s.

“Can you call reception and ask them to bring scissors? They probably deal with this every day.”

“Ah,” Jaime smiles apologetically. “This is an unmanned hotel. There’s no reception.” The room looks exactly like Brienne’s, and she had used a code beside the door to get in her room.

Jaime hands Brienne a bottle of something that is most likely very much overpriced. “Drink this, you’ll feel better.” He opens his own bottle and steals a glance at Brienne. “And don’t fret, wench. The marriage should be easy enough to annul.”

Brienne eyes the bottle with suspicion. It seems to be some sort of fancy lemonade. When she opens the bottle, she accidentally yanks Jaime’s hand with hers. She should apologise, but she’s cranky enough not to bother and Brienne takes a long swallow from the bottle.

“Done this before, have you?”

That’s what her new husband probably does, she thinks. Seduces girls at casinos and marries them for some unknown nefarious motive.

“No, but my brother has, thrice.” Oh, so it’s a family business then.

“Did we…” Brienne is fairly sure she didn’t have sex with the man, and she’s quite not sure if the feeling in the pit of her belly is relief or disappointment, but she remembers that there was definitely some kissing and groping going on.

Jaime turns to her like she had slapped him. “You don’t…?” He turns away but Brienne has already noticed that his cheeks have gone slightly pink. The man even blushes prettily. It doesn’t last though. “Clearly I didn’t do it well enough if you don’t remember,” he turns back and smirks.

Brienne feels her own face going red as well. Whatever horrid look is on her face makes Jaime deflate. “No, we didn’t,” he says, and his eyes roam Brienne’s. “We fooled around a bit, but no PIV,” and it takes some moments for Brienne's brain to catch up before she remembers the golden head between her thighs.

Oh gods.

It was good. Really really good.

Oh gods.

“I need the loo,” she stands up. He stands up with her and Brienne almost turns around to shout at him for following her before she remembers their tied hands again.

Crone’s cunt. She can’t even go to the loo without him.

They end up in the bathroom, Jaime standing at the bathtub, the shower curtain between them, their hands awkwardly hovering in the air, connected by that fucking white ribbon. Brienne has never been so embarrassed in her life. Jaime prattles behind the curtain.

“I don’t know why you need to hide, wench, considering that last night I had my tongue…”

“Can you please shut up!” Brienne squeaks and reaches awkwardly for the toilet paper with her (free) hand. She manages to finish her business and flush the toilet, but the silence is even more embarrassing. “Can you…” she yanks his hand towards the sink.

“Not yet, wench, my turn now.”

Brienne stands behind him while he pisses. This is the worst moment in her entire life. Brienne would die right now, but then her corpse would be tied to him and police would have to be called and post-mortem photographs taken and everyone would talk about how even in death Brienne would try to cling into some pretty and unavailable asshole.

Her morbid thoughts get cancelled when Jaime yanks her hand, there’s toilet flushing and more yanking when he fumbles with his trousers.

“All done, wench, and you can open your pretty eyes now.”

They take turns washing their hands and Jaime hands her a towel to dry hers. He smiles at her through the mirror, and something jolts through Brienne’s belly.

“Come on, let’s re-hydrate and find out what happened last night.”

***

They end up back where they were, sitting at the edge of the bed, drinking fancy lemonade from the bottles and scrolling through the phones.

Or rather, Brienne is clutching hers and sneaking glances at his.

He goes straight to InstaRaven, and it’s bad.

There’s a selfie of him and Brienne, their tied hands prominently in the photo. Brienne is laughing and Jaime is grinning.

“Tell a girl that your company has found a way to recreate Valyrian steel and she immediately agrees to marry you.”

He has tagged Brienne's account at the photo. There are about a million comments on the pic, most of them are surprised Pikachus.

Jaime puts away his phone to rub his face.

Brienne unlocks her phone. It goes straight to photographs, where’s a video of very drunken Brienne and Jaime.

“Brienne!!!” Past Drunken Brienne waves at the camera. She looks happy, Present Hungover Brienne thinks before her past self shouts at the screen. “Don’t freak out!” Brienne rolls eyes to herself. Too late for that. “Seriously, stop freaking out and give Jaime a chance! I know you are thinking that you don’t know anything about him, but trust me, Jaime is kind, and sweet and honourable…”

Past Drunken Jaime leans at the camera “And really hot!”

“...And really hot,” Past Drunk Brienne giggles. “Promise me, Brienne that you’ll give him a chance. At least have breakfast with him.”

“Brunch.” Past Drunken Jaime interrupts again. “Oh, and Jaime,” Past Drunken Jaime continues. “Ask her where she works.”

Past Drunken Jaime and Brienne wave at the screen, and the video ends when Past Drunken Jaime gives such a dirty kiss to Past Drunken Brienne that she drops the phone and the video ends.

Present Hungover Brienne puts away her phone. Present Hungover Jaime looks at her with his eyebrows up.

“Well?”

“Well what?” Brienne doesn’t even know where to start untangling the knot that the video has created in her thoughts.

“Where _do_ you work?”

Brienne doesn’t see how that is relevant to anything at all. She shrugs a little. “I’m a curator of the Ancient Warfare and Weaponry department at Westeros National Museum.”

Jaime stares at her.

Brienne looks at their hands tied together. He even has very nice hands. When she looks up, Jaime is still staring at her.

“Want to grab some brunch with me?” he asks with a soft voice.

***

The walk of shame is not as bad as it could be. Jaime’s shirt is very rumpled and Brienne is still wearing her slinky dress from last night, but somehow Brienne doesn’t care.

Somehow, before arriving at the cafe, Brienne has agreed to give Jaime a private tour of the Valyrian steel exhibition she curated, and somehow, his hand has sneaked into hers.

Somehow, their hands are still tied together when they fly back to King's Landing the next day.

Somehow their marriage never gets annulled.


End file.
